Twitter RP Fate Oneshots
by Tsa Ra Vier
Summary: Solos and oneshot archive from twitter RP.
1. Mephistopheles: Primrose

"What did you say?" The homunculus timidly lookef at him in the eye. He always said that he was different from all his creations.

He was bolder, smarter, gifted. He tried opening his mouth but as soon as he did so, he felt a shiver down his spine. Why must he fear?

"It is impossible, master. I cannot do such request." The master lifts an eyebrow. The homunculus did not back down.

"You_ [ dare ]_ defy me ? Your creator ? The one that raised you, fed you, everything you know ?"

"-That was not my intention, master!" He raised his voice.

"I...I was told that such acts were inhuman." He muttered.

_[ And were you a human? No master. It should be an easy task for you, is it _not ? Yes_ master. Good. See it _to_ be done before midnight ]_

The boy walked under the rain with minimal clothing. With only a blunt blade at hand he began dissecting the remnants of his kin. Humans, homunculus, animals, rich nor poor. They seemed to end up here no matter their social status when they were alive.

They all have a special warmth inside them, and something creeping under their skin. It wriggles through them, eating their flesh. The boy picked them up and separated them from each other. Many tried to crawl on his skin.

His body is cold.

He continued for another ten hours.


	2. Mephistopheles: Reinrose

There was a time in his life that one named Mephistopheles loved god.

When the world is full of blessings and love,

For god gives affection and love to all the dear children living in this world.

That god was a man,

therefore Mephistopheles was able to feel for such being.

It was a simple and gentle affection. Not only for himself, but to all children he would say.

For god must have loved everyone equally,

But god also knew Mephistopheles personally.

He said,

"I shall bestow you a name and you shall remember them. For a name is important,

It is a blessing for the children to be named by their parents. Even when you admit to have none.

A name contains prayers,

wishes,

And most of all, a guide when you feel doubtful upon your path.

A name for you; something akin to ambition, personality, wishes,

Behold the radiance of your name,

Mephistopheles."

And he worships that god.

Isn't that beautiful? To be granted a gift that keeps on giving? Given the kindest love that keeps one faithful?

Of course god was betrayed in the end. Only then you shall know that god is true.

Just like in the history book, god would leave the children,

But it was only momentary;

For he promised his return,

And those who followed him was granted eternal life.

Mephistopheles loved that god. He was a friend,

Nothing good ever comes from Mephistopheles,

So he took what he could even from the greatest of all men.

Like a leech and a parasite;

And if one would give such affection to all children, he would take every single one of them.

And for time is nigh,

The one named Mephistopheles came to end this life of his.

He was eternal is he not?

He would meet god when he died. Of course, of course,

He had faith after all.

A crooked and broken faith,

For god is a man.

And Mephistopheles loved that god.


	3. Mephistopheles: Concerning Faith

In regards to [ faith ], aside from avoiding the topic, he would continuously reject god.

Why on earth would god created him-through Faust, only to be given self-awareness that he is in fact just be made to 'serve'? Considering his personality, Faust did not treat him very kindly and he picked up on that.

Hatred, ambition, confusion, and when he thought he followed the 'good' footsteps, [ a master who would exchange everything for what he wants ], he turned around from such atrocities~

[ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀʟғ-ʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴍᴇᴘʜɪ~ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ sᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪs ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ. . . ]

And he did make it come true did he not? Shouldn't he be praised?

Another, A corrupted Saint Graph that fused him with Goethe's legend on Mephistopheles. Which is good for him for he became stronger than what he is supposed to be! Pfft, a demon? That is just an added bonus. Being a [ demon ] means naturally rejecting god, right ? :)

And of course, he is going to hell at a speed faster than his ticking bomb. But he will not go alone. Oh no, he knew very well that he had to bring someone [ everyone ] to this. Since it technically he is already dead, probably he is beyond salvation anyway.

But!

[ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇɴʏ ɢᴏᴅ's ᴇxɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ. ]


	4. Darnic: Decades

What could three decades have done to you? You are wiser, stronger, a tad bit more realistic than we used to. Perhaps two decades ago one would dream of becoming a knight or marrying a princess.

A decade ago, one would think of family and who to spend the last few decades of your life with. Competition will always be there to motivate you to progress even further than before.

If you do your best, excel in what you did. Be a the best version of yourself, things should surely fall into place. And they did. A friend and a future wife.

What comes after was out of his control. A precious gem such as this one to be born in an unfortunate circumstances, a dying bloodline. Should he blame fate for putting him in such position ?

He was once an optimistic man. An opportunist, with a silver tongue. A talented young man that knew well of his skills, strengths, and weaknesses. That was him no longer.

Nobody lives for love. Power, fame, money. The world of magi taught him to be cruel. But he has none to blame but himself. And so he went away, knowing that love was never there for him. Perhaps something else can be his goal.

Just like all great magus was prone to live a life of solitude. What could three decades have done to you? Nothing. Everything. Remaining untouched like the day she left the young man. Not worn down nor battle ruined. As if time stopped just like his heart decades ago.

Her grave, cried her lover. But Darnic felt nothing. Even four decades later, from the first time they met, three decades of not seeing her face, and now, a decade later with a bouquet of violets on his hand. Pristine and youthful just like the days spent together.

Her lover would ask how. How is he still alive ? How is he remained youthful. Like Dorian Gray's curse. Perhaps there was a painting of him somewhere, ugly and cold. Darnic turned into a man described only in fiction.

Placing the flower on her grave, he bid his first and only love goodbye. Leaving her husband in tears and consternation. So what could three decades have done to you? A new goal, a new life perhaps.

One stained in blood of himself an another. As one matures, so does their cruel heart.

He was merely shaped the way he was meant to be. For nobody had proved him wrong, only mold him further into such being. What could three decades have done to you? Nothing. Perhaps everything.


	5. Goetia: Return

Upon the pure white Solomon walked alone. Carrying a box the size of his body filled with the things he owned when he was alive. His footsteps were as light as the clouds that he stood on. He arrived in heaven, most would say. For Solomon was a good man who followed the Lord.

Another figure came to greet him. The one the king would recognize as his Lord. The one who gave him the gift of wisdom and power. He greeted them.

"Welcome home, my son." the Lord said. Bowing his head and body in form of prayer, Solomon would return the greeting.

"I am home. Just like my father and fathers before me." A smile. The Lord would hug him. For they were a good Lord that welcomed their children. A welcoming, kind God. Solomon would hug them back and gave him the box he carried.

The Lord knew what was inside, but still they asked.

And Solomon replied, "They were my belongings. The ones gifted from you, Lord. And now, I return them to you." The king opened the box, There were the ten rings and a few of his personal favorite things.

The Lord smiled.

[[ What about the one clinging you, Solomon? ]]

Solomon looked down towards the golden haired child that held him so tightly in his sleep. He named this one, cared for this one like none other.

"This is Goetia," he said.

"How strange." he carressed the child. "Even after his memories were wipes clean and his core purified, he still will not let go of me with his tiny little hands."

"He was supposed to be returned as a blank canvas, and yet..." Perhaps the canvas is broken.

"He still holds on to me..." Solomon chuckled. He showed the Lord how he tried to remove the child from his shoulders, like an unyielding sleeping child he is. The Lord also laughed from the attempt.

[[ Give him to me. ]]

From mere words alone the tiny arms snapped and went limp. The sleeping body now slumped perfectly into the box. Solomon knew it would be so, he gave the box to the Lord alongside the body that was once Goetia. "Thank you for lending me this gift. I had fun."

They both smiled and exchanged a few more words of parting. With the box on the Lord's hand, they asked one last question to Solomon.

[[ Are you not going to say goodbye to your Goetia ? ]]

Solomon shook his head. "

Nah. I am alright." And he left.

A gift and a blessing returned.


	6. Goetia: Resume

[ No. It is not loneliness. ]

The strangest feeling when you wanted to scream before you realised nobody will ever save you.

Nobody is here.

/ Not even Solomon /

It is strange. How one only screams for help if they knew and hoped that they would be saved [ somehow ] . Even when there was nobody around. They hoped for a [ miracle ]. That is why Goetia did not scream even under that unbearable pain.

Everything just turned pale while.

/ And it scares him. Such pain he was no acquainted from. Being torn apart ever so slowly, reduced to nothing. It is a lie. This is a lie. / Perhaps Solomon would help him if he reached out to his…

[[ Solomon ? ]]

[ He is our creator. He would, He should, He was gone. ]

/ That is why we did not scream. /

Even with that futile action we knew at the back of our mind that we have given up. Solomon will not be coming back. [ He was left behind not once, But twice. No no no no… ]

! He is gone. He cannot help us.

We- I have to learn how to stop us-myself-from fading. If there are no 72 Demon Gods, [[ We ceased on becoming Goetia. ]] Goetia was a concept, a human correction ritual. We-I

[ What is… What is this ? What are all of these…? ]

! We-I reached out. He should still be right in front of us…

[ Ars Nova ] Nothing. Nothing was left for him.

! He is not… His words are always full of sweet dreams, But these…

These are [ disgusting ].

Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.

Is this how being alive feels like ? Even after three thousand years…

These brand of loss is... unbearable. How is one supposed to overcome these… ...You are right.

It is my fault.

Everything is [ my fault ]

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Repetitively spoken as if a child. A child losing all their limbs, all their brothers, one by one by one. He called out their names.

/ One by one,

[ And they replied for one last time before the connection was snapped. There is nothing else now. ]

! Unacceptable.

Nothing. He who once felt nothing felt something only to be reduced into nothing once more. It is… very complicated. And it is his fault.

-He was an error.

[ Commencing program termination; ]

Please let him do one thing right

[ He did not want to be a system failure ],,

resume ?


End file.
